


Good Boy

by 27dragons, tisfan



Series: MCU Kink Bingo [52]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Tony Stark, Cages, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, M/M, Massage, Master/Pet, Orgasm Control, Retraining, Top Bucky Barnes, Total Power Exchange, Vibrators, Wardrobe Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-08-19 07:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16530239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Summary: Tony has a very nice cage, to wait for his master to come home, cozy and comfortable.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For MCU Kink Bingo G5 - total power exchange

Tony rolled onto his side and pressed up against the bars of his cage so he could see the clock on the wall.  Soon. His master would come soon and let him out of the cage, maybe even play with him and pet him and say sweet things to him...

He only had to be patient a little longer.

It was hard, being patient. It was a very comfortable cage, with a soft floor and a heater in case he got cold, and it was roomy enough for him to stretch out all four limbs or to get up onto his hands and knees. It was close to his master, being installed directly under his master’s bed, in case his master wanted him in the night. He loved his cage, cozy and comfortable -- but it was hard, so hard to be patient, to do nothing but wait for his master.

He touched the collar at his throat, fingering the little tag on it that meant he belonged to his master. Pressed against the shape of it, felt the points of the little star digging into his fingertips. He was waiting, because his master had told him to wait, and he wanted to make his master happy. His master deserved to be happy, his master deserved to have a good pet and an obedient one. He would wait and be patient, even if it was hard.

His master knew it was hard for him. His master was very strict, but wanted Tony to succeed. Wanted to reward Tony and not punish him. Tony closed his eyes and counted off the seconds and the minutes and made himself be still. Waiting.

There was the sound of the key in the lock, his master’s voice. Talking, but not talking to Tony. His voice got louder, still not talking to Tony. Talking-- on the phone. Talking about work, or whatever. “No, really, if we have to delay the core transferal by three weeks, that means everything else will be on a three week delay. I don’t care how much you think my guys should be able to squash three weeks worth of work into one weekend, it’s just not going to happen.”

A pause, and his master pushed the door open to the bedroom. He noticed Tony, wide-eyed and eager at the door of his cage. Held up one finger, rolling his eyes a little. _Just a minute._

_More waiting_. Tony pouted a little, but let himself drop back down onto the soft floor, folding his arms and watching his master pace and talk on the phone, even as he kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie.

Finally, _finally_ , his master pushed the disconnect button and tossed his phone onto the dresser. “It was much more satisfying,” his master said, “when you could slam the phone into a cradle.” He huffed a sigh and settled into his chair, scrubbing at his face with both hands, stifling a frustrated sounding groan. There was a sense of disappointment, that his master might just doze in his chair, forgetting that Tony had been waiting, _all day_.

Tony was tired of waiting. And he could help his master feel better, if he was out of the cage. He pushed his face up against the bars and let a whine slip from his throat, pleading and hopeful.

“Oh,” his master said, like he’d forgotten about Tony, but then he smiled, bright and brilliant. “Hey there, baby boy. You wanna come on out of there?” He heaved himself to his feet, the way he picked up his legs and crossed the room suggesting that his legs and feet were sore. Standing meetings, meant to encourage short, simplified solutions, which were all bullshit. According to his master, at any rate. Tony had heard a few rants.

There was a click as his master took the key from the chain around his neck and unlocked the door. “There you are.”

Tony pushed through the door and crawled straight to his master, pressing his face against his master’s leg, breathing in the musky smell of his master’s body close by. He sat back on his haunches, stretching upward a little -- the cage was comfortable, but he couldn’t sit up in it -- and looked up at his master’s face, hoping for an order or a kind word or a touch.

“Hey sweetheart,” his master said, “look at you.” His master’s fingers ran lightly over Tony’s head, pressing in through his hair. “Best thing I’ve seen all day, I’ll tell you that.” Absently, his master petted him, through his hair, down his back to his hip. “You’re a good boy.”

His master paced around again, still mincing as he walked, obviously still stressed about the day’s work. “I need a drink,” he said. “Do you… do you need a drink? Go on, lead the way. I’ll get you a drink.”

Tony hadn’t been given permission to stand up, or to talk, so he bit his lip and crawled toward the mini-bar on the far side of the room. It was almost a mini-kitchen, with a little fridge and a microwave and snacks for after they played hard. Probably whatever his master wanted was in there, and not all the way out to the kitchen.

“Good,” his master told him, fetching a glass from the sideboard. He got ice cubes from the fridge and poured a healthy measure of whiskey into the glass. His master took a few gulps from the glass and then offered the glass to Tony. “You can use your hands, baby. God, fuck Pierce and his patriotic hundred and ten percent spiel. You’re gonna make me feel better, right baby boy?”

Tony took the glass in both hands, nodding eagerly. He took a swallow of the whiskey, letting it roll over his tongue and then slide down his throat, breathing its vapors like a quiescent dragon. Another sip, and then he tipped an ice cube into his mouth to suck on before offering the glass back to his master.

“You’re the best,” his master told him. “You wanna play? I can get your tail, maybe, and then you can sit up and beg. Or you can roll over for me.” Nice, options. Tony’s tail vibrated, on remote; and sitting up to beg usually meant his master wanted Tony’s mouth on him, while he encouraged or distracted Tony with the remote.

Rolling over was easier, letting his master use his body without toys and tools, just sweet petting and affection, laying on the bed and enjoying each other. Both were good.

Tony looked up at his master’s face, trying to gauge whether his master had a preference and was just being nice. Or if he could tell which choice would help the most to make his master drop the stress of the day and feel better. But his master just smiled down at him, waiting for him to make the choice.

He thought about it, about what he wanted and needed. What had he thought about the most, while he was waiting, trying so hard to be patient? Tony bit his lip and looked toward the bed, then looked back at his master. Something simple, something easy for them both. Lots of touching. Reminding his master that however much he was taken for granted at work, he would always come home to Tony’s love. And sometimes -- often -- snuggling, afterward. Yes. He looked at the bed again, and nodded.

“Okay, baby, that sounds good,” his master told him. “Come give me a kiss, sweetheart, and then hop up on the bed.”

His master was standing up, so Tony rolled up onto his feet as gracefully as he could manage, suppressing a bit of a wince as his calves stretched out. He wrapped his arms around his master’s neck and tipped up his face for his master’s kiss, the thrill of it racing down his spine. He leaned into the kiss, soaking in the attention, the taste of the whiskey on his master’s tongue and lips, the feel of his master’s hands on his skin.

When it ended, he let go reluctantly, smiling at the look in his master’s eyes, and then stepped back toward the bed, and back again, not wanting to turn to let his master out of his sight.

“I’m right here,” his master said, starting the process of getting undressed. Tossing the tie, unbuttoning his shirt. He stroked Tony’s back a few times in between, then frowned. “Oh, you have some dry skin here, honey. I haven’t been taking good care of you, have I? So busy, recently. You wanna get out some lotion, along with our other supplies, and I’ll give you a rub down?”

Tony wriggled with pleasure at the thought, even if he wanted to protest that of course his master took the best care of him, always. He stretched up, catching his master’s hand and tugging it closer to kiss the knuckles in thanks. He turned to get their things out, the lotion and lube and a condom, in case his master didn’t want to deal with the mess. He put his back to his master as he rummaged in the drawer, and bent over perhaps a little further than necessary, showing off his ass.

His master abandoned his undressing process, leaving his suit pants unbelted and unsnapped, dipping below his hips, to move over and press against Tony’s back, taking a handful of Tony’s ass and squeezing. “Love this, it’s so pretty, you’re so pretty and good for me. You know I can’t resist, right?” He nuzzled at Tony’s neck, blowing cool air around Tony’s collar, sending a shiver of sensation on that skin. “On the bed, lay down, face up. I’ll rub down your front first, hmmm? Make sure there aren’t any itchy dry spots. That’s no good.”

Tony nodded and stretched himself out on the bed, squirming a little at how soft and luxurious it felt. He always liked it when his master brought him up onto the bed. He spread out his arm and tipped his head back a little, though he still watched his master through slitted eyelids.

“God, you’re the prettiest thing,” his master said, pouring a dollop of moisturizer into one palm and warming it up before smearing it in wide strokes down Tony’s body, neck and shoulders, chest and belly, hips and thighs. Down his calves, and then slowly, working his way back up from the tops of Tony’s toes. If he lingered longer over some areas, well past when any lotion would have needed to be rubbed in, that was good, that was--

That was very good. His master used a softened, slick hand to stroke up Tony’s cock, thumbed over the head.

Tony let out a soft moan, arching up into the touch. His master hadn’t told him to be still or quiet, so that was okay. His master liked it when he showed how much he enjoyed the touches, usually, if they weren’t playing another way. Tony watched his master’s face as much as he could, watching the tension of the day bleed slowly out of his master’s expression, and that was good, too. Taking care of Tony was good for his master, it calmed and relaxed him.

His master stroked him, petting him, sometimes adding more lotion. Talked about his day at work, the boring meeting, the unreasonable demands. “Now, now, don’t get ahead of me,” he said, as Tony was biting down on his lip, pressing up into his master’s palm. “I want you to wait, hold it, until I’m ready, and I still have your whole back side to moisturize, don’t I?”

Tony nodded. He would wait if his master wanted him to. Sometimes his master liked to make that difficult for him, enjoyed watching Tony work to hold himself back. It was fun for Tony, too, those times. The other times were fun, too, of course. His master always made Tony feel good, full of joy and love and the knowledge that his master cherished him.

He couldn’t entirely stop himself from rocking up into his master’s touch, at least a little. It felt so _good_. But he didn’t let himself get too far along, not without his master’s word.

His Master leaned down and kissed Tony’s mouth, licking the sounds out as Tony made them, which made him want to make more sounds, until he was clinging to his master with both hands, pushing up into his touch, wanting it.

“Love you, you’re my good boy,” his master said in between kisses, ravishing Tony’s mouth, stroking him tender and sweet. “Roll over now, be a good boy?”

The blankets were soft against his skin, light friction as Tony snuggled against them, and his master ran a possessive hand down his spine. “You can rub against the blanket if you want, but remember, you can’t come until I’m ready for you,” his master told him. “I want to feel you, clenching around me, okay?”

Tony nodded again. He would be good, wanted to be good for his master. Wanted to feel his master in him when he came, the way it sometimes punched a sweet groan out of his master’s chest. Tony wriggled into place, getting comfortable, and curled his spine a little to push his ass up, inviting his master to touch it.

This time, the lotion was cold, direct out of the bottle and it splattered across Tony’s back and ass and thighs. His master chuckled at Tony’s offended squeak. “Sorry, couldn’t help it,” he said. “The visuals are kinda great.” But the lotion warmed up quick enough when his master started rubbing it in, spending a lot of time working over Tony’s ass and thighs, spreading his legs and massaging the tender inside of his thighs.

Tony couldn’t help but rub himself against the bed, a sweet back-and-forth between the friction of the bed and the tender, almost teasing touches, until he was whimpering with wanting. He wanted to beg, wanted his master inside him. He twisted his head around to give his master his biggest, most hopeful eyes.

With each stroke of his hands, down Tony’s back, his master dipped along Tony’s crack, spreading his cheeks out. “Here we go, let’s just get you nice and wet here, shall we?” His master held out a hand, waiting for Tony to put the lube into it, but drawing a teasing circle around Tony’s hole that stopped as soon as Tony moved forward at all to reach for the lube.

Tony tried a couple of times, then whimpered. He bit his lip and lunged for the lube as fast as he could, then pushed back into his master’s touch, begging with every inch of his body for more, for everything his master wanted to give him.

“Aw, good boy,” his master said, rewarding him with a kiss in the small of his back, a harder, more satisfying rub of his fingertip over Tony’s hole. “Am I bein’ mean to you, baby? You think so?” His master sat up a bit and wet his fingers, drizzling a little more of the lube between Tony’s cheeks. “Hmmm, you want this?” Circled and pushed lightly at the muscle before breaching him with one fingertip. “You can say, if you want to.”

“Please.” The word fell out of Tony’s mouth even before his master had finished speaking, burst free from where it had been pressing urgently against Tony’s teeth. “Oh, master, please please please yes. Want your touch so much.”

“You’re so good to me,” his master praised him. “I’m unbelievably proud of you, you’re such a joy.” Two fingers in, rubbing at that gland inside Tony’s body, relentlessly stimulating it, sending bursts of pleasure through him. “Mmm, does that feel good, honey? You ready for me?”

Tony was nearly sobbing with need as he nodded frantically. “Yes, please, please, I need you, need it, master, please!”

“All right, sweetheart,” his master said, agreeably. He pulled Tony’s hips up. “There ya go, keep your head down for me, yeah? I like you just like this, so sweet.” His master got lined up between Tony’s splayed thighs, pushing the head of his cock against Tony’s hole. “Mmmm, you feel so hot, sweetie, just perfect. You’re so good, yeah.” He pushed forward, slow, an inch or so, keeping one hand on Tony’s spine, keeping him down, holding him steady.

Tony shivered and shuddered, trying to focus on relaxing, letting his master in, pushing through the slight burn and ache of the start, knowing it would feel immeasurably better very soon. His hands clenched, balling up in the soft blankets as he tried to press back into his master’s cock, wanting it deeper. “Please,” he whispered, “oh please...”

Long, endless moments as his master rocked in and out, going deeper sometimes, for a long, slow thrust, and then pulling back, giving Tony only shallow strokes. His hands came down on Tony’s hips, holding him. “Love you, love you so much.”

“Love you,” Tony answered, breathless. “Love you always.” The pleasure built and built with every thrust, every touch, and Tony was keening with need, beginning to wonder if he’d even be able to obey his master’s command. The heat was consuming him, lifting him right out of his head until he felt like he was floating. “Master,” he gasped. “Please, I need--”

“I got you, don’t you worry, honey, I’m gonna treat you so sweet,” his master told him, breath coming faster, those sinful, delicious strokes speeding up. “You wait for me, you wait, an’ if you do a good job, honey, you can sleep in th’ bed tonight, okay, you just wait up for me, I’m… I’m comin’, real soon now.”

Tony stifled another sob and clenched his fists tighter and squeezed his eyes shut and fought against the heat, willing it to subside, just a little, just enough... _Please please please_...

“Oh, oh, yeah, that’s good, honey,” his master said. “You’re so tight, just like I knew you would-- oh, there, there we go, baby, you come with me, now.” His master reached under his belly, hand still slick with lube, cupped him, stroked him. “There we go, there, we’re right there honey.”

There was no way Tony could hold back any longer, not with his master coaxing him along so sweetly, not with that touch setting him ablaze. Tony yelled, wordless and without shame, as he came, spilling into his master’s hand, over his master’s blankets, not caring that it immediately smeared along his belly. He shivered through a series of aftershocks, his master’s hand still on him. He felt limp, utterly boneless, in its aftermath, his brain still floating up in the clouds, warm in the sunshine.

“There you go, baby.” His master was laying on him, skin clammy with sweat, breath hot in Tony’s ear. “You’re so good to me. Lemme just… breathe a minute, then, you want to take a nice bath, and have a little bit to eat? I feel so much better, you’re the best boy, yeah, make me feel so good.”

Tony managed to turn his head a little to nuzzle at his master’s face. “Like it when you feel good,” he murmured, too sleepy and floaty to bother with full sentences. “Make me feel good, too. Love you.”


	2. Best Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony knows the rules, so when he forgets and wears the wrong tie, Bucky knows that his pet needs to be taught to heel.
> 
> MCU Kink Bingo B4 - BDSM: Wardrobe Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For adevilcalled

Bucky unlocked the door and let himself into the vast penthouse. It was empty. And quiet.

He shook his head. Of course it was; it wasn’t their weekend to play, or the week long vacations a few times a year. Which meant Tony was probably working late, or in the ‘shop, or at some company function. Sometimes he was back at the penthouse before Bucky got off work, usually digging into some take-away or watching terrible television.

Just because Bucky was dragging his ass in at almost nine at night -- damn Pierce and this integration project, the overtime was killing him -- didn’t mean he should expect Tony to be home.

But it was always an adjustment, after having a pet, getting used to coming home and home being cold, empty.

He flipped lights on as he crossed the room, poked the television remote and set it to one of the music channels, just to get some noise in the place.

Opened the fridge and looked at the dismal contents.

He was hungry, but there wasn’t anything in the fridge that he wanted to eat. Freezer was empty of ice cream or frozen meals.

He checked the pantry, but it, too was full of food that was too much like effort to cook and eat.

Bucky pondered his phone for a moment; was he hungry enough to call for take out and have to decide what he wanted to eat, and where he wanted to get it from, and then wait for it to show up?

God, sometimes life was so ridiculously hard.

He opened the fridge again, just in case the contents had changed. They hadn’t. He snagged a pack of deli meat and some cheese slices. Rolled them up and ate them without condiments or bread. Instant sandwich, no dishes required.

Bucky licked his fingers off, wandered back into the living room. A few pieces of deli ham and cheese wouldn’t last him for long, but--

The doorknob turned and Tony let himself in.

He was wearing a suit, which meant he’d been in the office today. The charcoal suit, which meant he’d been dealing with upper management or customers that he had to impress. Bucky approved; the charcoal suit framed Tony’s ass delectably. Tony dropped his keys by the door and kicked off his shoes, then came the rest of the way into the living room, loosening his tie.

His _yellow_ tie.

“Hey, did you have dinner yet? ‘Cause I’m starving.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and dropped it on the table, the tie still hanging loosely from his neck.

Bucky’s gaze went from the tie to Tony’s face; half smiling, the dark circles under his eyes had probably been hidden by sunglasses. He didn’t quite have his press-face on, but he was exhausted. “I didn’t. Just got in myself, stupid overtime--” Bucky watched Tony’s hands, restlessly tapping against his thighs. Restless. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but… isn’t it Wednesday?”

“Is it?” Tony scooped up his phone to check, then nodded and dropped it again. “Yep, sure enough, Wednesday. Still. I could’ve sworn I was at the office for at least three days.”

“I hear that,” Bucky agreed, tensing a little. “Honey, what are the rules for Wednesday?”

“Mm... Bagel for breakfast. Garnet cufflinks, burgundy pocket square, black socks and shoes, silver watchband. Salad for lunch. And some stuff about dinner if I’m not here, but I’m here.”

Bucky moved in closer, took the end of Tony’s tie and reeled him in. “Something we’re forgetting? Or did you think this matched?” He fingered the end of the tie almost, but not quite, casually.

Bucky nearly missed the slightly deeper breath Tony took. “Felt like something a little bolder today,” he said, just a hint of tension underlying the casual tone. “A little contrast to keep things interesting.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” Bucky tugged on the tie a little harder, simulating the feel of a leash in his hand, the way Tony’s neck bowed to him, sweet and compliant, despite that glint of rebellion in his eyes. “Interesting. As opposed to what, sweetheart? _Boring_? Feel the need to gnaw on the coffee table legs a bit?”

“I, uh, maybe screwed up. A little.” Tony glanced up at him and then looked down again, suddenly docile and repentant.

Bucky lifted Tony’s chin with one finger, barely blinking, studying Tony’s expression. “A little screw up? Or a little chafing at the leash? You need reminding, I can do that. I ain’t adverse to a little _discipline_.”

Tony shivered, but his eyes went dark. “Yes, please, sir.”

Bucky gave a firm nod. “All right, then,” he said, rolling his neck and listening to his spine pop. “Call for delivery-- Chinese sounds all right. Tell ‘em to bring it up in two hours.” That should give him plenty of time to get Tony back on track, and right about when they’d _need_ food. “You’ve lost clothing privileges, and you’re down to paws. Go get undressed. Except the tie. Leave the tie on, as a reminder. Get your paws out, the leash, and your collar. Be ready for me in ten minutes.”  

Bucky didn’t even look at Tony as he went back in the kitchen. He set up a bowl of water and the dry cereal they used as kibble, putting Tony’s dishes down on the floor.

From the living room, Bucky heard a quiet murmur as Tony placed the dinner order, and the quiet creak of the floor as he made his way to the bedroom, a soft shuffle that meant he was crawling and not walking. Various soft thumps from the bedroom as he -- presumably -- followed orders.

Bucky helped himself to a few more slices of deli meat. He wondered what had happened; Tony didn’t usually need a session mid-week. They’d talk about it. Later. Checked the clock. Close enough. Tony didn’t like being indignant, or feeling that Bucky was being unfair, but sometimes he needed that.

At eight minutes, he opened the door to look.

Tony was undressed, but still getting things out of the drawer where they were kept. He looked up at the sound of the door opening, eyes wide. He looked at Bucky, then flicked his eyes sideways to look at the clock. “You said ten,” he protested.

“And you said you were feeling bold, today,” Bucky said. “Get me your gloves, since it looks like I’ll have to do this all myself.”

The gloves were rounded, held on with leather buckles that could lock in place, if they needed to. Holding the hands curled up so that Tony couldn’t stretch his fingers out, or crack his knuckles. They didn’t last too long -- even good leather could only take so much dragging across the floor -- but these were new, still with the toe beans painted on the palm-side.

Tony pouted -- he really was in a mood -- but held up his hands so Bucky could put them on him. By the time Bucky had finished, he seemed a little calmer, sitting on his heels and keeping his eyes on the floor.

Bucky rubbed Tony’s head absently, feeling the product that made his hair sticky. “Good boy. Lemme get your leash and we’ll go for a walk, get some of that energy out.” Leash and collar next. As far as Bucky was concerned, there was nothing better than that moment when he fastened Tony’s collar on, set the little star-shaped tag to ring against its buckle.

Two laps around the open, public spaces of the penthouse was a good “walk” and would take them some time. “Oh, wait,” Bucky said. “Can’t go anywhere without your tail, can we?” He waited to see if Tony would object.

Tony whined a little, but didn’t raise a particular protest. He pressed his forehead against Bucky’s leg, submitting to Bucky’s will.

Bucky plucked the tail with its tapered plug from the drawer, put the remote in his pocket, and then snagged up a pair of ears, too. Get all the way in the mood, in the moment. He clicked his tongue at Tony. “C’mere,” he said. Lube, ah, there… He dropped to a squat, waiting for Tony to come to him.

Tony came, though he lagged a little. He gave the tail a bland, neutral sort of glare -- he’d complained before that it itched and tickled, where it brushed his thighs -- but then glanced up at Bucky and sighed, folding his arms down to present his backside.

A bit of lube and Bucky got it seated. Tony couldn’t really wag it without a lot of work, but it was pretty, the fake fur plush to the touch. He put Tony’s ears on, a headband with cute little fold-over ears. Nothing elaborate, just for setting the scene. “Good boy,” Bucky told him again, rubbing the side of Tony’s face, petting him. He let Tony lean into it before thumbing the remote vibe. Not much, just enough to buzz and twitch against Tony’s rim.

Tony whined again and nudged his face against Bucky’s leg, begging for more petting.

Bucky gave in, petting him, rubbing at Tony’s flanks and sides, along his back. Scratching through his hair, getting the scalp. Even when they weren’t playing, Tony loved having his head rubbed, like Bucky’s hand could keep Tony’s thoughts orderly and quiet. “Yeah, you’re a good boy, just a little energetic, right?” He leaned in, kissed Tony’s forehead. “Come on, boy, let’s go for a walk.”

Walking -- or in Tony’s case, crawling -- was work. A lot of work, physically, requiring Tony to keep pace. And playact at the same time, sniffing at the furniture. Maybe they’d do one lap and then play fetch for a bit. “Heel.”

Rather than just turning around to get into position, Tony crawled all the way around Bucky, making Bucky untangle himself from the leash. He pulled up at Bucky’s side, his arms precisely even with Bucky’s legs, his head up.

Bucky huffed, stepping around the leash. “Yeah, I hear ya,” Bucky said. He reached into his pocket and grabbed one of the bits of dry cereal from the ziplock. “Good boy.” He offered Tony the treat. Sometimes they had actual baked cookies that looked like dogbones, but they required a few hours in the kitchen, and neither of them had had time for that recently. Bucky idly wondered if that was part of the problem; not the treats, exactly, but the time. Down time, just to rest and be Bucky and Tony.

He kept his pace carefully, slow, steady. It had taken a long time for both of them to get it down, exactly. Enough so Tony could keep up without the start-stop like a car in city traffic. Around to the side of the room, and along the shorter wall of the living room. There was enough room for both of them, as long as Tony didn’t get too far out on the side, even between the sofa and the wall.

Tony kept pace, his breathing going a bit labored as he adjusted to the movement and the awkward position. Every few steps, he’d pull ahead just enough to sniff at something, playing his part. A couple of times he huffed and shook a leg, a sign that the light brush of the tail was making it tickle and itch.

They were halfway around the room by the time Tony’s breath evened out and his movements stopped being so jerky and deliberate, flowing into a smooth grace that meant he’d finally stopped _thinking_ about each little movement and was letting himself _be_.

All the way around the room, and Bucky thumbed the vibrator on again, the option setting audible to Bucky’s keen ears -- so much for whisper-quiet. The setting that Tony preferred was a steady thump. The one that made him crazy was a slow build up, from the lowest vibration up to the highest, and then clicking off for a few seconds before starting up again.

Bucky eyed Tony as they made the last corner. _Whum whum whum_ , went the vibe. Just like Tony liked it. A quick glance at the clock. Hmmm. They probably didn’t quite have enough time for a second lap and then sex before the delivery guy arrived. Not that Bucky hadn’t sometimes left Tony aching and wanting while he got food. Hmmm.

That was an idea. Feeding Tony under the table-- all right.

Checking in, “you want to go another lap, boy, or play fetch for a bit?” Bucky squatted down to rub Tony’s ears, both the fake ones and the real ones, petting and stroking him. Checking the effects of the vibe. Tony was hard, his dick hanging in a proud curve under his belly.

Fetch was both easier, in that Tony didn’t have to match Bucky’s pace, and harder, because Tony had to scramble a bit and then carry the toy in his mouth without dropping it. But he smiled up at Bucky eagerly and then crawled toward the toybox, pulling at the leash until Bucky relented and followed.

Bucky picked out a toy, a small frisbee that was light weight, easy to bite on all sides, except when it landed right-side up, in which Tony would have to flip it over to get hold of it. He unclipped the leash and then tossed the toy toward the far end of the room, giving himself enough time to go over to the footstool and sit down. “Go get it, boy!”

Tony crawled quickly across the room, tail swinging enticingly with the swaying of his hips. He nosed and pawed at the frisbee until he was able to pick it up, then came back to Bucky at a somewhat slower pace, head proudly upright and eyes fixed on Bucky with adoration.

“Such a good boy, yeah, you are,” Bucky praised him, lavishly. Both because it was true, Tony was good, even if Tony didn’t believe that, and because it was what Tony _needed_. “Give it,” he said, when Tony was close enough, holding his hand out for the frisbee. Sometimes Tony would give it over right away, and sometimes he’d tug and pull at the toy, depending on how playful he was feeling.

He must have been feeling frisky tonight; he let Bucky get hold of the frisbee, then growled and tried to back away with it.

“Drop it,” Bucky told him, stern. “How’m I s’posed to throw it again if you don’t give it back?”

Tony could have been a picture for that meme “no give, only throw.” He shook his head from side to side, trying to dislodge Bucky’s hold on the frisbee, and pulled again. He growled, but Bucky could see him trying not to grin.

Bucky held up a hand, mocking holding a ball, bounced it around, threw the invisible ball across the room. “Go get it,” he told Tony.

Tony tugged at the frisbee one last time, then released it and went to “search” for the ball, nosing and sniffing all around the furniture, whining in the back of his throat when he couldn’t find it.

“Awww, lookit what I found,” Bucky called, picking up the frisbee again and waving it around to get Tony’s attention. Tony diligently ignored him for a while, still seeking the invisible ball, until Bucky whistled sharply. He added a jolt to the vibrator, turning it from its steady thumps to the gradually increase. At the very end of its cycle, the tail itself was shivering along between Tony’s thighs.

Tony whined again and made his way back to Bucky, pausing briefly when the vibrator’s cycle hit its peak and then shut off to sit back and pant, eyes closed and cock jumping against his belly. When he got to Bucky, he whimpered and pushed his head against Bucky’s belly, begging.

Bucky rubbed him all over, caressing strokes and brisk pats, kissing his ears, his forehead, the tip of his nose. “Yeah, who’s a good boy, who is the best possible boy, ever?” Bucky spluttered in mock-dismay when Tony licked him several times along the check, catching the side of his mouth in one swipe of a quick tongue.

“Yeah, okay, okay, boy. One more fetch and then we’ll go have some dinner?” He grabbed the frisbee from near his foot where Tony had knocked it out of Bucky’s hand in his eagerness. “Wanna, fetch once more?” He tossed the toy, harder this time, so it hit the far wall and bounced.

Tony scrambled after it. He had a harder time picking it up this time, as it had landed at an awkward angle. He finally got it, though, and was halfway back to Bucky with it when a knock at the door signaled the arrival of dinner.

Tony froze and looked at Bucky, wide-eyed, quivering in anticipation.

“Stay,” Bucky told him, getting to his feet. “Sit.” He left the vibe running, checked the line of sight to make sure that Tony couldn’t be seen from the front door. “Stay? Good boy.”

He went to get dinner.

Tony stayed put -- neither of them would involve an unsuspecting third party in their play; that was just rude -- but Bucky was still counting out the delivery guy’s tip when a soft, forlorn  whimper leaked free, drifting around the corner.

“Got a dog?” the delivery guy asked.

“Taking care of a friend’s pet, while they’re out of town,” Bucky explained -- Tony Stark was still sometimes the subject of celebrity gossip -- “But he’s in a crate right now. No respect for furniture. Like, _none_. Thanks a lot, you have a good night.”

Bucky came back around the corner to find Tony still in place, the frisbee dropped to the floor. Tony was shifting restlessly from hand to hand, his backside squirming as the vibrator steadily ramped up again. He gave Bucky a slightly desperate look.

“Look what I got, boy. You want some--” Bucky sniffed. “Kung-pow chicken?” Without waiting to see if Tony was following him, Bucky went into the kitchen to drop off the food and make a big production of opening all the containers, moving food into his bowl, mixing it with rice and setting it at the table.

When Bucky turned, Tony was there, watching avidly. He sat back on his heels, and as the smell of the sauce filled the room, his stomach gurgled hungrily.

Bucky dumped a bit of the larger pieces of chicken onto Tony’s bowl and set it under the table along with the water dish. Not much; Tony tended to wolf his food when they were playing, and long term, that led to poorly digested dinner and a stomach ache, which was no fun for anyone. “Wait,” he told Tony as Tony lunged for the plate. “Stay.”

Tony whined again but did as Bucky told him, eyes flicking between Bucky and the food.

He finished fixing his own food, put the bowl down on the table. “All right, you can eat now.”

Tony darted under the table and snapped up a piece of chicken before Bucky could change his mind again, a relieved groan sliding out of him. Well, he _had_ said he was hungry when he’d gotten home, and that had been some time ago.

It wasn’t long before Tony had finished his small portion and was pushing into Bucky’s lap, rubbing his face against the inside of Bucky’s thighs.

“Want some more, or are you ready to get your reward?” Bucky asked, brushing some grease off Tony’s cheek with his thumb. “Yeah, are you a hungry boy, or a _hungry_ boy?” Tony’s cock was still standing stiffly at attention, the head slick and shiny with precome.

Tony tipped his head and caught Bucky’s thumb in his mouth, sucking on it, tongue teasing at the pad, all the while keeping his eyes on Bucky’s, pupils blown wide.

“All right, boy, off to bed,” Bucky said, pushing back from the table. He’d only gotten time for a few bites, and he wasn’t nearly as wound up as Tony was, but he would be fine. He stuffed two more, huge bites into his mouth, chewing manfully as he followed Tony back to the bedroom. He hadn’t put the little bedside steps out, and of course, the cage was always unlocked if Tony wasn’t in it.

The little choices, to see what Tony wanted, needed, _desired_.

Each time the vibrator reached its peak, Tony would make a soft, longing little noise in his throat, and Bucky’s dick finally decided to get in on the action, swelling behind the panel of his jeans. “Don’t you just look pretty as a peach,” Bucky told him. _Like to take a bite out of it._

Tony nuzzled at the front of Bucky’s jeans, tracing the shape of his cock through them eagerly.

“All right, all right, darlin’,” Bucky said, hips reflexively pushing at Tony’s mouth. “Hop up on the bed, I’ll take care of you.”

Tony crawled to the bed. Because of the cage, it was too high for Tony to get up there without getting off his knees, but they’d worked out a compromise, if the stool wasn’t out. Tony sat back on his heels, curling his toes under to give him added bounce, then jumped up and onto the bed, landing back on his knees. He turned back to Bucky, eager and wanting, hips shifting in little half-thrusts, seeking friction that wasn’t there.

“There you go,” Bucky told him. “Roll over.” He checked Tony’s knees when he was on his back; a little red, but not scraped up or bruised or carpet-abraded. Just to be sure, Bucky grabbed a little of the skin cream and soothed the skin there.

And since Tony was on his back _anyway,_ Bucky gave him a thorough rub-down, touching chest and arms, stomach and hips, groin and thighs, all the way down to Tony’s toes.

“You think you been good? Hmmm? Want your voice back, honey?” Bucky nuzzled at Tony’s thigh, licking a stripe up the tender inside.

Tony moaned and nodded, eyes wide and pleading. He reached out to touch the pad of one paw against Bucky’s face.

“Love you, too,” Bucky said, kissing the leather. “You’re a very good boy.” He slithered up between Tony’s thighs and kissed his mouth briefly. “You can talk.”

“Thank you, sir,” Tony said quickly, stretching his neck for another kiss. “Love you, love you so much.”

“Yeah, you’re so good for me,” Bucky said, and then, having given Tony his voice back, dedicated himself to some very thorough kissing, preventing him from saying a word for long minutes. Bucky stropped himself, clothes and all, against Tony’s naked body. Relished the feel of heat and smooth skin, until Tony was all but dry humping. “Let me get undressed, then I’ll make you feel really good.”

He could tell that Tony was eager, and would have been impatiently helping Bucky get his clothes off, except he was still limited by the paws. In a way, that took Tony’s choices away, but it also meant that the sex would be entirely about Tony; unable to act much, or touch or tease or stroke, Tony was going to have to just take what he was given.

Not that Bucky would ever, _ever_ tell Tony that. That Bucky himself didn’t always need a lot of foreplay, and getting Tony all wound up with play, and with the buzzing vibe, still jiggling away merrily in Tony’s ass, let Bucky get all his stimulation through penetration. Which meant that part took a lot longer than it did when Tony put his mouth or his hands on Bucky.

“On your knees, baby.”

Tony rolled over and pushed up onto his knees, resting his front half on his elbows and dropping his head down. “Yes, want you, want you so much, sir, please.”

“Yeah, I’m gettin’ that,” Bucky teased. And then teased some more, taking his sweet time about removing the vibe, pushing it back in a few times, fucking Tony with that pretty tail until he was moaning and whimpering. Little more lube into Tony, and then Bucky slicked himself up, kneeling between Tony’s thighs. “There you go, honey.”

Tony’s gaping hole practically tugged him in, as soon as he pushed in, squeezing and clenching around him. Tony let out a long, relieved moan that made Bucky chuckle a little. “So good,” Tony sighed. “Want to make you feel good, sir.” He arched his back, tempting Bucky in even deeper.

“You always make me feel good,” Bucky told him, and that was true. The tight clutch of Tony around him, the way Tony begged and pleaded, always made Bucky feel good. Powerful, in a way he rarely was in his real life and day job. Needed and necessary. It was ego stroking, but wasn’t all play? A way to get what you wanted and needed out of life. Squeeze it to the very marrow.

Bucky settled into a rhythm, slow and easy, knowing it would take a while for Tony’s body to get adjusted to not having the steady thrum of the vibrator. Easy. Slow. Rocking back and forth with no urgency. Knowing that Tony couldn’t tug himself off, either, that was power. Holding Tony’s pleasure entirely at Bucky’s whim, and knowing that Tony needed that, nearly as much as Bucky did.

He wasn’t sure how long they went before Bucky’s urge got a little more demanding, but it must have been a while-- he had to add a little more lube to keep them slick and from getting friction burns. But finally, Tony was practically sobbing under him, face all the way down on the mattress, ass as high up as he could get it, toes curled against Bucky’s calves.

“I think someone’s gettin’ all wrung out,” Bucky crooned, “a little tired, maybe?” Teasing, just a zing of bite to the words. Enough to get Tony to throw him that absolutely disgusted look over his shoulder, that made Bucky laugh and spur himself to greater efforts.

He didn’t disappoint. “Fuck me.” It was half a plea and half a demand. Tony pushed back against Bucky, trying for harder, deeper, stronger.

Bucky’s hands gripped Tony’s hips, practically yanking them together, harder, harder to the point of aching knees and smacking his thighs against Tony’s perfect ass, hard enough that it sounded like blows. They moved together, frantic, losing the rhythm in the need for more, more, more--

“Shit, oh, baby, oh, god, Tony--” Bucky reached under, rubbed Tony’s cock. Circled the girth with his fingers, a loose okay gesture, giving Tony something to get friction against. His dick was slick with precome and leftover lube, and Bucky tightened his grip until Tony was fucking through an almost closed fist. “There you go, baby, you got it.”

Tony was keening with each breath, gasping for air, hips working as he thrust desperately into Bucky’s hand. “Sir, can I, please, please let me come!”

“Yeah, shhh, s’okay, you go--” Bucky didn’t even get all the words out before Tony was wailing, spurting hot over Bucky’s hand, painting the bedspread with his spill. “You holdin’ onto that for all you’re worth, baby? That’s so good of you, so perfect--”

Bucky thrust in, hard, a few more times, chasing his own release, as Tony spasmed through aftershocks, and shuddered through overstimulation. “There, oh, oh, god, Tony, just like--” Bucky bit down on a scream, so hard he could taste the bruising on the inside of his lip.

Tony made a satisfied, almost smug noise, though slightly hoarse. “Mmm, thank you, sir,” he rumbled, practically purring.

It was all Bucky could manage to do, gently turn to the side and slide out. He practically collapsed onto the bed, grimacing a little because he put his elbow right in the wet spot. Uck.

“C’mere a minute, sweetie,” Bucky said, patting the far side. Tony would either have to move around him, or lay in the whole wet spot, which would let Bucky know if he needed to get up and bring food in, or if they could rest for a few minutes and then go out and finish dinner as two people instead of pet and owner.

“Mmf,” Tony agreed. He didn’t move for a few seconds, but then he rallied a bit, climbing carefully over Bucky to curl up and rest his head on Bucky’s shoulder. “Just what I needed,” he sighed. “You’re so good to me.”

Bucky kissed Tony’s hair, then carefully took the ears off, putting them aside. “You deserve it,” Bucky told him. “Absolutely the _best boy ever_. Don’t fall asleep. We both need to eat some.” He took one of Tony’s hands and unbuckled the paw, rubbing Tony’s fingers out, massaging Tony’s palm with his thumbs. “Wanna talk about it over dinner, or just forget it?”

Tony purred again at the treatment, stretching out his hands. “Don’t know if I can explain it, really,” he admitted, “but I’ll try.” He blinked up at Bucky, smiling. “For you, I’d try anything.”

“Okay, baby,” Bucky told him, kissing one eyelid and then the other. He yawned mightily, considering nap over dinner, but when his stomach rumbled, he groaned, rolling out of bed. “Hang tight, I’ll get us washed up and some bathrobes, okay? Love you.”

“Okay,” Tony said. He yawned, as well. “Better hurry if you don’t want me going to sleep, though.”


End file.
